Cowboy Songs

Sometimes it's hard to remember the lyrics for all those traditional old
cowboy and Western songs no matter how hard we try. Here are the
words for some of the classic songs as well as the words for the songs
you may not hear anymore. New songs will be added on a regular
basis. If you are looking for the words for a particular song let
me know and I will try to post them. Happy Singing!

This info-packed, 372-page collection features 200
American cowboy songs with complete lyrics, lead lines and guitar
chords, plus an extensive introduction, notes on the songs,
illustrations by J.K. Ralston throughout, a lexicon of cowboy terms, a
general index and an index of titles and first lines, and more.See Complete
Song List

There was a fair
lady who lived on the plains,
She helped me herd cattle through hard stormy rains,
She helped me one season all through the roundup,
She would drink with me from the cold bitter cup,
She loved the red liquor which serves a man so,
She was a fair lady as white as the snow.

She loved the
red liquor which serves a man so,
She was a fair lady as white as the snow;
I taught her as a cowboy when the rangers come round,
To use a six-shooter in both of her hands,
To use a six-shooter an' never to run
As long as the loads lasted in either gun.

We was goin' down the canyon in the spring one year,
To camp there a season with a herd of wild steers;
The Injuns charged on us at the dead hour of the night,
We rose from our slumber the battle for to fight.
Mid lightnin' an' thunder an' the downpour of rain,
It's in come a bullet an' dashed out her brains!

Mid lightnin' an' thunder an' the downpour of rain,
It's in come a bullet an' dashed out her brains.
I sprung to my saddle with a gun in each hand, Sayin',
"Come all you cowboys, let's fight for our band."
Sayin', "Come all you cowboys, let's fight for our life;
These redskins has murdered my darlin' young wife

I'm back in the saddle again, out where a friend is a
friend,
Where the long horn cattle feed on the lonely jimson weed
I'm back in the saddle again.
Ridin' the range once more, totin' my old forty-four,
Where you sleep out every night and the only law is right,
Back in the saddle again.

Whoopi ti yi yo, rockin' to a fro, back in the saddle
again
Whoopi ti yi yea, I'll go my own way
Back in the saddle again.

I am a reckless highwayman, Cole Younger is my name,
An' many a desperation has caused my friends much shame;
For the robbin' of the Northfield bank, my friends, I cain't deny,
For which I am a poor pris'ner now, In the Stillwater jail I lie.

Of all my darin' bold robberies a story to you I'll tell,
Of a California miner on whom my eyes befell,
I robbed him of his money an' told him to go his way
For which I will be sorry of until my dyin'day.

An' then we started for Texas, where brother Bob did say,
That on fast horses we must ride in revenge of our father's day
On them fast horses we did go to try to win the prize,
An', we'll fight them anti-guerillas until our dyin' day.

An' the next we surprised was the Union Pacific train,
The crimes we done that bloody day brings tears into my eyes,
The engineer an' fireman killed, the conductor escaped alive,
An'now their bodies lie moulderin' beneath the Nebraska skies

Then again we started for Texas, that good old Lone Star state;
A-crossin'the Nebraska prairies the James boys we did meet,
With guns an' knives an' revolvers we all sat down to play,
While drinkin' a lot of bad whiskey to pass the time away.

An' again we saddled our horses back up north for to go,
To that God-forsaken country that they call Minnesoto,
I had my eye oni the Northfield Bank when brother Bob did say,
Oh Cole, if you undertake that job you sure will rue the day.

Although we stationed our pickets an' up to the bank did go,
It was there behind the counter, boys, I struck my fatal blonv
Then hand us out your money, an' give us no delay,
For we are the noted Younger Boys an'have no time to play.

All day I face the barren waste without the taste of
water,
Cool water.
Old Dan and I with throats burned dry and souls that cry for water,
Cool water.

The night are cool and I'm a fool each stars a pool of
water,
Cool water.
But with the dawn I'll wake and yawn and carry on to water,
Cool water.

(chorus)
Keep a movin' Dan, don't you listen to him Dan, he's a devil not a man
and he spreads the burnin' sand with water.
Dan can't you see that big green tree where the waters runnin' free
and it's waiting there for me and you.
Water, cool water.

The shadows sway and seem to say tonight we pray for
water,
Cool water.
And way up there He'll hear our prayer and show us where there's water,
Cool Water.

Dan's feet are sore he's yearning for just one thing
more than water,
Cool water.
Like me, I guess, he'd like to rest where there's no quest for water,
Cool water.

Last night as I lay on the prairie and looked at the
stars in the sky,
I wondered if ever a cowboy could drift to that sweet by and by.
The road to that bright happy region is a dim narrow trail so they say,
While the broad one that leads to perdition
Is posted and blazed all the way.

In the lobby of a big hotel, in New York town one day,
Sat a bunch of fellers tellin' yarns to pass the time away.
They told of places they had been and different things they'd seen.
Some preferred Chicago town and others New Orleans.

In a corner, in an old arm chair, sat a man whose hair
was gray.
He listened to them eagerly, to what they had to say.
They asked him where he'd like to be and his clear old voice did ring.
I'd like to be in Texas for the roundup in the spring.

(chorus)

I can see the cattle grazing o'er the hills at early
morn;
I can see the campfire smoking at the breaking of the dawn.
I can hear the broncos neighing, I can hear the cowboys sing
I'd like to be in Texas for the roundup in the spring.

They sat and listened carefully to what he had to say
For they new the old man sitting there had been a top hand in his day.
They asked him for a story of his life out on the plains,
Slowly he removed his hat and quietly began.

"I've seen 'em stampede over hills till you'd think they'd never stop,
I've seen 'em run for miles and miles until their leader dropped,
I was Forman on a cow ranch, the callin of a king.
I'd like to be in Texas for the roundup in the spring.

Little Joe, the wrangler, will never wrangle more;
His days with the remuda they are done.
'Twas a year ago last April he joined the outfit here,
A little Texas stray and all alone.

'Twas long late in the evening he rode up to the herd
On a little old brown pony he called Chaw;
With his brogan shoes and overalls a harder looking kid
You never in your life had seen before.

His saddle 'twas a southern kack built many years ago,
An O.K. spur on one foot idle hung,
While his "hot roll" in a cotton sack was loosely tied behind
And a canteen from the saddle horn he'd slung.

He said he'd had to leave his home, his daddy'd
married twice
And his new ma beat him every day or two;
So he saddled up old Chaw one night and "lit a shuck" this way
Thought he'd try and paddle his own canoe.

Said he'd try and do the best he could if we'd only
give him work
Though he didn't know "straight" up about a cow,
So the boss he cut him out a mount and kinder put him on
For he sorta liked the little stray somehow.

Taught him how to herd the horses and to learn to know them all
To round 'em up by daylight; if he could
To follow the chuck wagon and to always hitch the team
And help the "cosinero" rustle wood.

We'd driven hard to red river and the weather had been
fine;
We were camped down on the south side of the bend
When a norther commenced blowing and we doubled up our guards
For it took all hands to hold the cattle then.

Little Joe the wrangler was called out with the rest
And scarcely had the kid got to the herd
When the cattle they stampeded; like a hail storm, long they flew
And all of us were riding for the lead.

"Tween the streaks of lightning we could see a horse
out far ahead
'Twas little Joe the wrangler in the lead;
We was riding "old Blue Rocket" with his slicker 'bove his head
Trying to check the leaders in their speed.

At last we got them milling and kind of quieted down
And the extra guard back to the camp did go
But one of them was missin' and we all knew at a glance
'Twas our little Texas stray poor wrangler Joe.

Next morning just at sunup we found where Rocket fell
Down in a washout twenty feet below
Beneath his horse mashed to a pulp his horse had rung the knell
For our little Texas stray--poor wrangler Joe.

The range's filled up with farmers and there's fences
ev'rywhere
A painted house 'most ev'ry quarter mile
They're raisin' blooded cattle and plantin' sorted seed
And puttin' on a painful lot o' style

There hain't no grass to speak of and the water holes are gone
The wire of the farmer holds 'em tight
There's little use to law 'em and little use to kick
And mighty sight less use there is to fight

There's them coughin' separaters and their dirty, dusty crews
And wagons runnin' over with the grain
With smoke a-driftin' upward and writin' on the air
A story that to me is mighty plain

The wolves have left the country and the long-horns are no more
And all the game worth shootin' at is gone
And it's time for me to foller, 'cause I'm only in the way
And I've got to be a-movin' -- movin' on

Sam Bass was born in Indiana, it was his native home,
And at the age of seventeen, young Sam began to roam.
Sam first came out to Texas a cowboy for to be
A kinder-hearted fellow you seldom ever see.

Sam used to deal in race stock, one called the Denton
mare;
He matched her in scrub races and took her to the fair.
Sam used to coin the money and spent it just as free,
He always drank good whiskey wherever he might be.

Sam left the Collins ranch in the merry month of May
With a herd of Texas cattle the Black Hills for to see,
Sold out in Custer City and then got on a spree-
A harder set of cowboys you seldom ever see.

On their way back to Texas they robbed the U.P.
train,
And then split up in couples and started out again.
Joe Collins and his partner were overtaken soon,
With all their hard-earned money they had to meet their doom.

Sam made it back to Texas all right side up with
care;
Rode into the town of Denton with all his friends to share.
Sam's life was short in Texas; three robberies did he do:
He robbed all the passenger, mail, and express cars too.

Sam had four companions-four bold and daring lads-
They were Richardson, Jackson, Joe Collins, and Old Dad;
Four more bold and daring cowboys the rangers never knew,
They whipped the Texas Rangers and ran the boys in blue.

Sam had another companion, called Arkansas for short,
Was shot by a Texas Ranger by the name of Thomas Floyd;
Oh, Tom is a big six-footer and thinks he's mighty fly,
But I can tell you his racket-he's a deadbeat on the sly.

Jim Murphy was arrested and then released on bail
He jumped his bond at Tyler and then took the train for Terrell;
But Mayor Jones had posted Jim and that was all a stall,
'Twas was only a plan to capture Sam before the coming fall.

Sam met his fate at Round Rock, July the
twenty-first,
They pierced poor Sam with rifle balls and emptied out his purse,
Poor Sam he is a corpse and six foot under clay,
And Jackson's in the bushes trying to get away.

Jim bad borrowed Sam's good gold and didn't want to
pay,
The only shot he saw was to give poor Sam away.
He sold out Sam and Barnes and left their friends to mourn
Oh, what a scorching Jim will get when Gabriel blows his horn.

And so he sold out Sam and Barnes and left their
friends to mourn,
Oh, what a scorching Jim will get when Gabriel blows his horn. Perhaps
he's got to heaven, there's none of us can say
But if I'm right in my surmise he's gone the other way.

Deep within my heart lies a melody,
A song of old San Antone.
Where in dreams I live with a memory,
Beneath the stars all alone.
It was there I found beside the Alamo,
Enchantment strange as the blue up above.
A moonlit pass only she would know,
Still hears my broken song of love.

Moon in all your splendor, know only my heart.
Call back my Rose, Rose of San Antone.
Lips so sweet and tender like petals falling apart.
Speak once again of my love, my own.

Broken song, empty words I know,
Still live in my heart all alone,
For that moonlit pass by the Alamo,
And Rose, my Rose of San Antone.

As I walked out on the streets of Laredo,
As I walked out in Laredo one day,
I spied a young cowboy all wrapped in white linen
Wrapped in white linen as cold as the clay.

(chorus)
"Oh, beat the drum slowly and play the fife lowly,
Play the Dead March as you carry me along,
Take me to the green valley and lay the sod o'er me
For I'm a young cowboy and I know I've done wrong."

"I see by your outfit that you are a cowboy"
These words he did say as I boldly stepped by,
"Come sit down beside me and hear my sad story,
I was shot in the breast and I know I must die."

"My friends and relations, they live in the Nation,
They know not where their boy has gone,
He first came to Texas and hired to a ranchman
Oh, I'm a young cowboy and I know I've done wrong."

"Go write a letter to my gray-haired mother,
And carry the same to my sister so dear,
But not a word of this shall you mention
When a crowd gathers round you my story to hear."

"Then beat your drum slowly and play your fife lowly,
Beat the Dead March as you carry me along,
We all love our cowboys so young and so handsome,
We all love our cowboys although they've done wrong."

"There is another more dear than a sister
She'll bitterly weep when she hears I am gone,
There is another who will win her affections,
For I'm a young cowboy and they say I've done wrong."

"Go gather around you a crowd of young cowboys,
And tell them the story of this, my sad fate;
Tell one and the other before they go further
To stop their wild roving before 'tis too late."

"Oh muffle your drums, then play your fifes merrily
Play the Dead March as you go along
And fire your guns right over my coffin,
There goes an unfortunate boy to his home."

"It was once in the saddle I used to go dashing
Once in the saddle I used to go gay,
First down to the dram-house and then to the card house
Got shot in the breast, I am dying today."

"Get six jolly cowboys to carry my coffin,
Get six pretty maidens to carry my pall,
Put bunches of roses all over my coffin,
Put roses to deaden the clods as they fall."

"Then swing your rope slowly, and rattle your spurs
lowly,
And give a wild whoop as you carry me along,
And in the grave throw me and roll the sod o'er me
For I'm a young cowboy and I know I've done wrong."

"Go bring me a cup, a cup of cold water
To cool my parched lips," the cowboy said;
Before I turned, the spirit had left him
And gone to its Giver --- the cowboy was dead.

We beat the drum slowly and played the fife lowly,
And bitterly wept as we bore him along,
For we all loved our comrade, so brave, young and handsome,
We all loved our comrade although he'd done wrong.

One evening quite early they camped on the Platte,
'Twas near by the road on a green shady flat'
Where Betsey, sore footed, lay down to repose,
With wonder Ike gazed on that Pike County rose!

Their wagon broke down with a terrible crash,
And out on the prairie rolled all kinds of trash,
A few little baby clothes done up with care,
'Twas rather suspicious to all on the square.

The shanghai ran off and their cattle all died,
That morning the last piece of bacon was fried.
Poor Ike was discouraged and Betsey got mad,
The dog drooped his tail and looked wondrously sad.

They stopped in Salt Lake to inquire the way,
When Brigham declared that sweet Betsey should stay;
But Betsey got frightened and ran like a deer
While Brigham stood pawing the ground like a steer.

They soon reached the desert, where Betsey gave out,
And down in the sand she lay rolling about;
While Ike, half distracted, looked on in surprise,
Saying, "Betsey get up, you'll get sand in your eyes."

Sweet Betsey got up in a great deal of pain,
Declared she'd go back to Pike County again;
But Ike gave a sigh and they fondly embraced,
And the traveled along with his arms 'round her waste.

They suddenly stopped on a very high hill,
With wonder looked down on old Placerville;
Ike sighed when he said, and he cast his eyes down,
"Sweet Betsey, my darling, we've got to Hangtown."

Long Ike and Sweet Betsey attended a dance;
Ike wore a pair of his Pike County pants;
Sweet Betsey was covered with ribbons and rings;
Say Ike, "You're an angel but where are your wings?"

A miner said "Betsey, will you dance with me?"
"I will that, you old hoss, if you don't make too free;
But don't dance me too hard, do you want to know why?
Dog gone you, I'm chock full of strong alkali!"

This Pike County couple got married of course,
And Ike became jealous, obtained a divorce.
Sweet Betsey, well satisfied, said with a shout,
"Good bye, you big lummox, I'm glad you've backed out!"

Oh, the high hawk knows where the rabbit goes,
and the buzzard marks the kill
But few there be with eyes to see the tall men riding still
We hark in vain on the speeding train
for an echo of hoof beat thunder
And the yellow wheat is a winding sheet
for cattle trails plowed under

Hoof dust flies at the low moon's rise
and the bullbat's lonesome whir
Is an echoed note from the longhorn throat of a steer,
in the days that were
Inch by inch, time draws the cinch,
till the saddle will creak no more
And they who were lords of the cattle hordes
have tallied their final score

This is the song that the night birds
sing as the phantom herds trail by
Horn by horn where the long plains fling
flat miles to the Texas sky
And this is the song that the night birds wail
where the Texas plains lie wide
Over the dust of a ghostly trail
where the phantom tall men ride

You ask me why, my little friend, I am so quiet and
still;
And why a frown sits on my brow like a storm cloud on a hill
Rein in your pony closer, I'll tell to you a tale Of Utah Carroll,
my partner, and his last ride on the trail.

In the land of Mexico in the place from whence I
came,
In silence sleeps my partner in a grave without a name.
We rode the trail together and worked cows side by side,
Oh, I loved him like a brother, and I wept when Utah died.

We were rounding up one morning, our work was nearly
done.
When off the cattle started on a wild frightened run.
Now the boss's little daughter was holding in that side.
She rushed to turn the cattle,'twas there my partner died.

In the saddle of the pony where the boss's daughter
sat,
Utah that very morning had placed a red blanket
That the saddle might be easier for his little friend,
But the blanket that he placed there brought my partner's life to an
end.

When Leonora rushed in to turn the cattle, her pony
gave a bound
And the blanket slipped from beneath her and went trailing on the
ground.
Now there's nothing on a cow ranch that will make the cattle fight
As quick as some red object would just within their sight.

When the cattle saw the blanket there trailing on the
ground
They were maddened in a moment and they charged it with a bound. When we
cowboys saw what had happened, everyone just held our breath
For if her pony failed her, none could save Leonora from death.

When Leonora saw the cattle, she quickly turned her
face.
And leaned from out her saddle, caught the blanket back in place
But in leaning lost her balance, fell before that maddened tide
"Lie still, Leonora, I'm coming dear," were the words old Utah cried.

About fifteen yards behind her Utah came riding fast.
I little thought that moment that ride would be his last.
The horse approached the maiden with sure feet and steady bounds And he
leaned from out the saddle to catch her from the ground.

In falling from her pony, she dragged the blanket
down,
And it lay there beside her where she lay upon the ground.
As he leaned to reach Leonora and to catch her in his arms
I thought my partner successful and Leonora safe from harm.

But such weight upon the cinches, they never had felt
before,
His hind cinch burst asunder, and he fell beside Leonore.
Utah picked up the blanket, "Lie still again," he said.
And he ran across the prairie and waved the blanket over his head.

And thus he turned the cattle from Leonora his little
friend,
And as the cattle rushed upon him, he turned to meet his end.
And quickly from his scabbard, Utah his pistol drew.
He was bound to fight while dying, like a cowboy brave and true.

His pistol flashed like lightning, the reports rang
loud and clear
As the cattle pinned down on him, he dropped the leading steer
But they kept right on coming, my partner had to fall.
No more he will cinch the bronco or give the cattle call.

And when at last we reached him, there on the ground
he lay,
With cuts and wounds and bruises, his life-blood oozing away
Oh, I tell you what, little one, it was most awful hard
I could not ride the distance in time to save my pard.

As I knelt down by him I knew his life was o'er,
But I heard him faintly murmur, "Lie still, I am coming, Leonora,
Twas on one Sunday morning, I heard the parson say,
"I don't think your young partner will be lost on that great day.
" He was just a poor young cowboy, maybe a little wild.
But God won't be too hard on a man who died to save a child.

For most people there's a spot that lives forever,
Deep within their fondest memories.
Tho' I have been a rover I have never
Seen anyplace that I would rather be than---

When it's roundup time in Texas and the bloom is on
the sage
How I long to be in Texas just a ridin' on the range
I can smell the bacon frying, hear it sizzlin' in the pan,
Hear the breakfast horn in the early morn drinkin' coffee from a can.

Just a ridin', rockin', ropin', poundin' leather all
day long,
Just a seatin', swearin', smokin', listen to a cowboy song.
Though I know I'll never go there, I would work for any wage,
To be again, be free again, where the bloom is on the sage.

When it's roundup time in Texas and the bloom is on
the sage,
How I long to be in Texas just a ridin' on the range.
Those purple hills are calling, calling to me from afar,
I'm back again to the Rio Grande and the lonely Texas star.

How I long to be living where the prairie flowers
grow,
I'd be willing to start walking to the place that I love so.
It beacons and I reckon I would work for any wage,
To be again, be free again, where the bloom is on the sage.

A group of jolly cowboys discussing plans at ease,
Says one: "I'll tell you something, if you will listen please;
I am an old cowpuncher and here I'm dressed in rags,
And I used to be a tough one and take on great big jags.

"But I have got a home, boys, a good one you all know;
Although I have not seen it since long, long ago.
I'm going back home, boys, once more to see them all;
Yes, I'm going to see my mother when the works all done this fall.

"When I left home, boys, my mother for me cried,
Begged me not to go, boys, for me she would have died;
My mothers heart is breaking, breaking for me that's all
And with Gods help I'll see her when the works all done this fall.

That very night this cowboy went out to stand his
guard;
The night was dark and cloudy, and storming very hard;
The cattle they got frightened, and rushed in wild stampede,
The cowboy tried to head them, riding at full speed.

While riding in the darkness so loudly he did shout,
Trying his best to beat them and turn the herd about;
His saddle horse did stumble, and on him did fall;
The poor boy won't see his mother when the works all done this fall.

They picked him up so gently and laid him on a bed;
His body was so mangled the boys all thought him dead;
He opened wide his blue eyes and looking all around,
He motioned to his comrades to sit near him on the ground.

"Boys, send my mother my wages, the wages I have
earned,
For I am afraid, boys, my last steer I have turned.
I am headed for a new range, I hear my Master call,
And I'll not wee my mother when the works all done this fall.

"Fred, you take my saddle; George you take my bed;
Bill you take my pistol after I am dead.
And think upon me kindly when you look upon them all,
For I'll not see my mother when the works all done this fall."

Charlie was buried at sunrise, no tombstone at his
head,
Nothing but a little board, and this is what it said:
"Charlie died at daybreak, he died from a fall,
And he'll not see his mother when the works all done this fall."

The Yellow Rose of Texas was a woman fair to see
Though many loved her beauty, she lived in slavery,
When war was fought in Texas and the battles shook our lives
General Santa Anna took Emily as a prize.

Cho: She's the sweetest rose of color that Texas ever knew
Her eyes are bright as diamonds, they sparkle like the dew,
You may talk about your Clementine, And sing of Rosa Lee
But the Yellow Rose of Texas is the only girl for me.

He tried to win her favors, thought himself a dashing man
But his courtship she rejected, and she stole his battle plan;
Then sent it to Sam Houston, for this she found a way
And so the Union Army fought and won the day.

Where the Rio Grande is flowing lived a woman brave and fine
A heroine of the people and honored in her time
The Yellow Rose of Texas has long been laid to rest
But history would be different without the lovely Emily West

We was camped on the plains at the head of the
Cimmaron
When along comes a stranger and stopped to argue some,
Well he looked so very foolish when he begun to look around
For he seemed just like a greenhorn just escaped from town.

We asked him had he been to chuck, he said he hadn't a smear,
So we opened up the chuckbox and said he could eat right here,
Well he filled up on some coffee and some biscuits and some beans And
started right in talking about the foreign kings and queens.

All about the foreign wars on the land and on the
seas
With guns as big as steers, and ramrods big as trees.
About a feller named Paul Jones, a fightin' son of a gun
A fighter and the grittiest cuss that ever packed a gun.

Such an educated feller, his thoughts just come in
herds,
He astonished all them cowboys with his highfalutin' words
Well the stranger kept on talkin' till the boys they all got sick
And begun to look around to see if they could play a trick.

Well, he said he'd lost his job up on the Santa Fe
He was goin' 'cross the plains to for to hit the Seven D;
He didn't say how come it, just some trouble with the boss
But asked if he could borrow a fat saddle horse.

Well, this tickled all the boys to death, we laughed
way down our sleeves
We said we'd give him a fine horse, as fresh and fat as you please.
So Shorty grabbed his lariat and he roped the Zebra Dun
And we give him to the stranger and waited for the fun.

Now old Dunny was an outlaw, he'd grown so awful wild
He could paw the moon down, he could jump a mile;
Old Dunny stood right still there, like as he didn't know
Till the stranger had him saddled and ready for to go.

When the stranger hit the saddle, then old Dun he quit
the earth,
And started travelin' upwards for all that he was worth,
A-yellin' and a-squealin' and a-having wall-eyed fits
His front feet perpendicular, his hind feet in the bits.

We could see the tops of mountains under Dunny every
jump
But the stranger he was glued there just like the camel's hump;
The stranger he just sat there, and twirled his black moustache,
Just like a summer boarder waitin' for the hash.

Well he thumped him in the shoulders and he spun him
when he whirled,
And hollered to them cowboys, "I'm the wolf of the world!"
And when he had dismounted and once more upon the ground,
We knew he was a thoroughbred and not a dud from town.

The boss he was a-standin' there just watchin' of the
show
Walked over to the stranger and said, "You needn't go.
If you can use a lariat like you rode old Zebra Dun
You're the man I've been looking for since the Year of One!"

And when the herd stampeded he was always on the
spot,
And set them off to nothing, like the boiling of a pot.
Well, there's one thing and a shore thing I've learned since I've been
born
Every educated feller ain't a plumb greenhorn.

We ask that researchers approach the
materials in this collection with respect for the culture and
sensibilities of the people whose lives, ideas, and creativity are
documented here. Researchers are also reminded that privacy and
publicity rights may pertain to certain uses of this material.

As is often the case with materials collected in the course of
ethnographic field research, it is difficult or impossible to
sufficiently identify specific tunes performed by participants, which
precludes performing a comprehensive assessment of the copyright status
of underlying musical rights in compositions. We believe that most, if
not all, of the works in this collection are in the public domain. Users
are reminded that they must make their own assessment of copyrights or
other rights (or absence of such rights) in the context of their
intended use.

The nature of historical archival collections means that copyright or
other information about restrictions may be difficult or even impossible
to determine. Whenever possible, this site provides information about
copyright owners and other restrictions on the individual song pages. We
provide this information as a service to aid users in determining the
appropriate use of an item, but that determination ultimately rests with
the user.